


Day 4 - Masturbation

by WorkInProgress84



Series: NSFW Challenge [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Dry Humping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorkInProgress84/pseuds/WorkInProgress84
Summary: Enjolras comes back from work and gets an unexpected show.





	Day 4 - Masturbation

Enjolras was knackered. Bone-tired, as if someone had cracked open his skull and used his brain as a bouncy castle. He was supposed to be a sprightly 25-year-old but, climbing the stairs to his fifth floor apartment, he felt ancient and weary. To think it was only Wednesday…

Closing the door behind him should have been a relief, except the second he did that, he was assaulted with much-too-loud music coming from Grantaire's room. He wanted to recoil; physically crawl out of his skin and leave that too-sensitive flesh shell behind. He didn't dislike Muse (which Grantaire loved to call The Enjolras Band), but anything besides utter silence was hell on Enjolras' senses right now. 

He toed off his shoes at the door and hung his jacket, took a detour by the kitchen to drink a large glass of water. He wasn't sure what he was putting off, confronting his flatmate again for something he'd undoubtedly find trivial and rail him for, or simply getting closer to the noise. Grantaire hadn't even closed his door.

In spite of what he liked to claim around their mutual friends, Enjolras semi enjoyed living with Grantaire; for the most part, his messiness was compatible with Enjolras'. The food was great when Grantaire felt up to cooking, and Enjolras always picked up enough for the both of them when he stopped for takeaway after work.

And while it was true Grantaire was loud (so loud) and obnoxious and contrary, he also had reflective, silent moments that made it easy for Enjolras to fit him into his life. Or at least it had been easy up until Enjolras had started noticing the looks Grantaire gave him when he thought Enjolras was unaware; then it was less easy, because it had stirred something in him he'd never quite paid attention to and didn't care to entertain. He was a serious man (Grantaire called him 'tragic') with a serious agenda, he didn't have time for heated green gazes and scruffy brown curls and strong hands.

The song changed to a slower-paced one, but it was still so goddamn loud. Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose, put his glass in the sink by Grantaire's unwashed cereal bowl and trudged to his roommate's room like a man walks to the gallows.

He slumped against the doorframe, but Grantaire didn't notice him. He _couldn't_ because he was too busy _humping his blanket_.

Enjolras' system shut down and rebooted but on acid, like someone had injected him with nitroglycerin by surprise. His heart rate shot through the roof as his eyes widened, trying to take in as much as possible: Grantaire lying on his stomach on top of his unmade bed, blanket tucked under his hips and God, he was practically naked, the only piece of clothing left on him the blue jeans bunched low on his thighs. He was the picture of sensuality, his pale butt flexing as his hips rocked back and forth minutely, almost like it was involuntary. The fading sunshine illuminated his body, casting shadows of warm yellow on his back. Enjolras was pretty sure Grantaire would've painted himself if he knew what he looked like.

Grantaire would have seen Enjolras intrude if his face hadn't been buried in his pillow. Enjolras loathed that pillow for several reasons; it prevented him from contemplating Grantaire's face, for one thing, which was unacceptable because he was certain his cheeks would be flushed with arousal and exertion and he so wanted to see it. For another, that pillow was muffling the noises Grantaire was making, as if the music wasn't doing a good enough job of that alrea- Oh.

Obviously the music's purpose had been to drown out Grantaire's noises. Because this was a private activity he wasn't supposed to witness at all, much less by spying on him like a voyeuristic pervert. Except surely if Grantaire had been so adamant about his privacy, he would've closed the door? Or just not masturbated around the time he knew Enjolras usually came home from work?

He was just about to tiptoe backwards when Grantaire gave a more forceful thrust, curling a hand into his pillow as he did. He stilled right after, almost like he needed time to recover, but then he resumed his less sedate pace. The movement was mesmerizing, as were the whiny little sounds Grantaire was smothering. His back undulated, a great wave, his muscles casting shadows, his feet tangling in the sheets to give himself more leverage. 

He was delectable. The way he chased his pleasure with utter abandon seemed to capture the very essence of who Enjolras knew Grantaire could be: focused, passionate, fierce. His hips drove into the blanket pile with yet a little more force, the lines of his body going more tense as the race to finish began. 

His ass clenched and unclenched with the effort; Enjolras' mouth went dry. Grantaire let go of the pillow and slid a hand down until it disappeared from view. The motion left very little doubt as to what was happening, though, and Enjolras' head spun a little, probably from the lack of irrigation to the brain considering all his blood had headed south to his own dick.

God, he couldn't think of Grantaire's dick right now or the way he was pumping into his fist. Would his grip be loose or tight? Was he thumbing the slit when he got to the tip? Circling the head? Thinking about those things would drive him mad. The only thing Enjolras knew for sure was that Grantaire was growing frantic and his moans were becoming more guttural, like they were pulled from the very core of him.

Enjolras' entire body was calling out for him to step closer and get involved, to touch and caress and kiss and be the reason of all these sounds. He couldn't say the urge was a surprise, there had been times when shutting up Grantaire with his mouth had sounded like the best idea in the world, but the strength of it was unprecedented. He could almost feel Grantaire's skin moving under his fingertips.

The rocking motion had almost fully hypnotized him when Grantaire paused again, breaking Enjolras' trance. It took a couple of seconds for the change to register: it was quiet; the music had stopped. All he could hear now was Grantaire panting into his pillow. 

And suddenly, Grantaire's head snapped up.

Enjolras felt his face drain of all colour then quickly flush back an embarrassing shade of red. He must have given himself away somehow: perhaps he'd breathed too loud, perhaps he'd gasped or shifted in the doorway. It didn't matter.

Grantaire was frozen still, not even covering himself, maybe waiting for Enjolras to flip out the way Enjolras expected Grantaire to do as well. The stalemate felt like it lasted for days.

But Grantaire didn't kick him out. He didn't call him a freak. 

He merely buried his face back in his pillow, groaning once before turning back to Enjolras, hungry eyes pulling him in. The erection Enjolras could no longer ignore twitched in his pants. There was no way Grantaire could miss it.

"Apolo." Grantaire's voice was loaded with gravel, like he'd been shouting himself hoarse for hours. It sent a shiver down Enjolras' spine. He gave the barest nod of acknowledgement, solemn. "How long have you been here?"

He could have lied. "Just this one song," he said roughly. A drum was beating between Enjolras' ears, shutting down his higher brain functions and narrowing his world down to this bed and this gorgeous man and the vital need to see this through. "If you stop now, I'm going to die."

"Jesus _fuck_ , Enjolras," Grantaire groaned, burying his face in his pillow again.

Enjolras swallowed, breathless. "I know. Please."

They must have entered some kind of parallel universe because Grantaire just made that sound again (Enjolras' dick had already grown very fond of it) and he gave an experimental thrust, maybe testing how serious Enjolras was, eyes boring deep into his.

Whatever Grantaire saw convinced him and he began pushing into his blanket again, into his fist, except much slower than before, hips circling as he pushed up to get more friction. 

While his erection begged to be freed from his work trousers, Enjolras couldn't bring himself to do it: he would've hated for Grantaire to think he was treating him like a cheap live porn experience. Besides, touching himself would've taken some of his focus away, and he wanted all of his senses to fully enjoy this, to record and remember as many details as he could because surely he would never again reach the sheer eroticism of this moment with Grantaire.

Grantaire smothered a broken little sound in his forearm, biting the flesh there, and Enjolras swore his body erupted in fireworks.

"Don't," he blurted out. Grantaire stopped moving and sluggishly turned his head to look at him. "Let me hear you."

He had no idea who this Enjolras he'd suddenly become was coming from with his candidness and his boldness, but Grantaire didn't seem to dislike him: he bumped his pillow to the ground and shifted so his face would always be visible. Enjolras gulped; his dick gave a thankful little twitch.

"Aren't you going to join me?" Grantaire asked, his deep voice an enticing siren song. Enjolras' brain short-circuited again, torn between two different urges.

He shook his head once. "I need to watch you," he tried to explain, at a loss for words. 

His very arms tingled with the need to touch the man in front of him, partake in all this skin. He wanted nothing more than to march inside the bedroom, drop to the mattress and run his tongue up the small of Grantaire's back until he reached the column of his throat and finally, finally that mouth. But he also needed to watch Grantaire, burn these images into his mind's eye in their purest form, unencumbered by his own sensual feelings.

"Okay, okay," Grantaire squeezed his eyes shut before he opened them again; there was a mischievous glint in them now. "Watch, then."

Grantaire's hips started pushing forward again, his thrusts lasting longer, burying himself further into the blanket. Every breath he took now turned into a moan, one blurring into another as he watched Enjolras watch him, his movements quickly becoming feverish again, and Enjolras could tell, recognized the signs of an impending climax.

"If I'd known you'd be watching," Grantaire panted through ragged breaths, "I would've opened myself up for you." Enjolras' felt his hands twitch. "With my fingers first, pretending they were yours- _ngh_ , always yours. And then- _hah, Enjolras_ \- a dildo, hoping it would be your cock inst- _ugh_ , instead."

Grantaire ground down harder, sweat beading on his brow, driving Enjolras insane with his sinful words. Grantaire's pace redoubled, hips snapping into the blanket, his arm between his legs until finally he coiled in on himself, taut, and came all over the bed, allowing Enjolras a glimpse of his leaking cock and his hand, not on his cock but squeezing his balls.

He licked his dry lips at this luscious sight, light-headed like he was the one who'd just come even though his dick was harder than ever. Enjolras' eyes trailed up Grantaire's spent body, his stare a longing caress along his flesh, and Grantaire whined a little when their gazes locked together.

"You're amazing." 

Inanely, the praise made Grantaire blush even as his hips snapped into the ruined sheets once, whether at an aftershock or at his words Enjolras couldn't be sure. He hissed around a whimper; Enjolras' cock kicked behind his fly.

Now that it was over and things had cooled at least on Grantaire's end, Enjolras felt like even more of a voyeur, out of place. Perhaps unwelcome.

"Should I-?" he started, taking a tiny step backwards.

Grantaire's green eyes widened in the growing twilight. He spread a hand on his mattress, palm up, shyly keeping it rather close to his own body. "If you leave now, I'm going to die."

An equally shy, hopeful smile bloomed on Enjolras' lips.


End file.
